Universal Constants
by Orka
Summary: Time travel, Q-like beings, Clones, Kids, Wraith, Genii, Z.P.M.s, Pregnant ladies, Goa'uld, orgainized choas, the laws of the universe, and a woman just barely keeping it together amidst raging hormones and long-fought battles. Randomness Abound! Okay, no
1. Introductions

1I can't write my other fic fast enough, so I'm arguementing that one with this one.

Wow, that made absolutely no sense. Moving on, enjoy!

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I, Larissa E. McKay, being sound of body if not entirely sound of mind, do hereby bequeath...

Damn, wrong document. Now that I mention it, I probably should get around to writing that will at some point...

Right, let's try this again. My name is Larissa, and in the thirty-seven years I've lived in this galaxy, and the two I didn't I've done some pretty strange things. I've ridden my bike off the stairs in the control room and almost into an incoming wormhole. I've convinced several of my friends that dressing up as Wraith and performing Swan Lake in the mess hall was a good idea. I've gotten my parents dead-ass drunk, purposely, on fermented root beer. I've told Ma'at exactly, in great detail, what I think he should do with a stuffed turkey, tala-taka beans, and the DHD on his lovely little planet. I've also helped instigate a Wraith Civil War, jumped off the top of the control tower without the personal shield, lead children in guerilla warfare, blew up a planet, and slapped an apparently omnipotent being across the face, but everyone has done those things at some point or another.

The point I'm trying to make is that while I was being there, doing that, and searching through the bargain rack for the T-shirt, I've picked up on a few things. Things that never, ever change, no matter how screwed up the universe becomes. The Laws of the Universe, if you will. And so when I do eventually die, as I hope happens sometime in the future, I want other people to be able to take advantage of them. So, without further ado, may present to you, ladies and gentlemen, universal constants!

CONFUSED? DON'T WORRY, IT'LL CLEAR UP...EVENTUALLY

Feel free to click the little purple button and let me know what you think... I live for reviews.


	2. Time Travel

Here it is...ode de oddness, part two.

I CANNOT WRITE IN SCOTTISH!

Universal Constant Number One: If a time traveler comes to Atlantis, he or she will wake up in the infirmary and inadvertently freak Carson out.

I woke up to the unwelcome sight of the blue-tiled ceiling of the infirmary. Now, don't get me wrong, I've spent a lot of time in the infirmary, and have a few good memories connected to it, like, for instance, painting the walls in pantomime of Oz, but the infirmary isn't in a part of the city we control, so I really was _not_ happy to see those tiles. The clear escape route to the emergency exit, however, was something I was delighted to see. I crept out of bed, slinked beneath the window, and was halfway to the door when someone spoke up.

"She should be wakin' up any second now, so donea woory. I'll keep ya in th' loop, Elizabeth."

I nearly jumped out of my skin. I knew that voice, but there was absolutely no way in hell I was hearing it now.

"Hold oon a minute, she's up now. An' she's escapin'!"

And I was absolutely, positively not seeing the owner of that voice. Then again, I don't think dead people can look that surprised.

"What're you doin' out o' bed, lass?"

I blinked.He's still there, Scottish burr, black hair, blue eyes, medical coat, and obsessive need to keep people in bed and all. And judging by the fact that he's pushing me rather forcefully, he isn't a ghost either.

"Carson?"

He gave me the infamous what-the-bloody-hell-did-you-just-say look that, as someone who obsessively reads other people's diaries, I've gotten several times in my life. Yep, no doubt about it.

"Carson, you're alive!" I threw myself out of the bed he had just steered me into and hugged him.

"Ohmygod, what happened? Why haven't you contacted us? Kat's been worried out of her mind, we were told you were dead..."

"Wow, steady lass, calm down." I took a deep breath and settled back onto the bed, grinning like an idiot. "Now, do I know ye?"

My grin, if that was possible, stretched even wider. "Oh, come on Carson, it's been what, six months? I haven't changed that much."

He still looks confused. Maybe it's that nasty scar I got for stepping a bit too close to a suicide bomber. Or the weird ragged haircut Kat gave me.

"Okay, I'll give you a clue. I'm probably the only person in the history if Atlantis to start a city-wide food fight." I hinted. He looks even more perplexed. I'm a little worried-he should remember that, as he was hit in the face with a pizza while trying to go the bathroom, and that'sgot to be hard to forget. He's never let me do so.

"Right, another clue then. Laquisha and I once managed to convince our dads that we were switched at birth, and you were forced run a DNA analysis on us to be sure." I tried again.

That doesn't seem to work either, as he's still giving me the you-poor-wee-thing-you've-gone-insane look that I hate. My grin's all but faded from existence at this point, justin case you were curious.

"Carson, it's me, Larissa." Nope, that's not working either. "The nosy little kid who somehow manages to get into more trouble than Dad and John combined? The one who bungee jumps for fun?" I officially go into near-panic mode when that elicits absolutely no response him. He has never let mesay the word bungee without freaking. "The daughter of the geeky Canadian scientist with the coffee fetish and allergies to lemons and pretty much everything but cats and peanuts? Your goddaughter? Any of this ringing a bell?"

Carson gives me the oh-good-lord-bloody-hell-and-heavens-above look. He has alot of looks, incase you haven't picked up on that yet."You're Rodney's daughter?"

I raised an eyebrow-or, rather, I attempted to raise an eyebrow. One of the drawbacks of being of Tau'ri decent is the lack of muscular control in your forehead. "Yeah, last time I checked. Carson, are you feeling okay? You're not suffering from one of those infamous concussions of yours or anything?"

"No." Carson answered slowly. He might have said more, but he was cut off by a voice from the doorway.

"Carson, are you in? There was an accident in the lab..."

I knew that voice too. And if you thought I was happy to see Carson...

"Dad! You got your voice back!" I said, launching myself off the bed again to hug him, nearly knocking the wind out of him in the process. "Are you alright? What's happened? Where's mum? I think there's something wrong with Carson, he doesn't seem to remem... wow, what happened to your hair?"

"I'm... sorry?" Dad asked, instinctively touching a slightlyburnt hand to his head.

"Your hair...there's more of it. A lot more of it." I squinted slightly. He didn't _look _like he was wearing a wig.

"Wha- okay look, who are you?" Dad demanded defensively, backing up a few paces.

"Dad?" I questioned, looking between him and Carson.

"I think you have me confused with some one else." Dad said slowly. "I-I-I'm not good with kids. At all. And I don't have any. So..." he trailed off miserably.

I looked at the two of them again. They seem like they're telling the truth, and God knows my Dad can't lie for...well, pretty much anything. "This is some sort of 'welcome back to the land of the living' joke, right? How long was I out this time?"

The two guys exchanged uneasy glances, and it's obvious that I might as well be speaking Swahili for all the good it's doing me. I've become 'grievously concerned', as Sek'met would say. "You honestly have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Uh...that would be a 'no'." Dad answered, still looking rather disturbed...and younger?

Oh shit, why didn't I pick up on that before! He looks only slightly older than James!

"Oh, crap. What year is it? Waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait!" I add as Carson opens his mouth to answer. "Don't answer that, I don't want to know. Is it the year 2035?"

Dad answers with a "My God.", but the look on Carson's face tells me everything I need to know.

Somehow, I've gotten entangled in time travel. Again.

Yippee.

SO...WHATDIJA THINK?

It's something square, in lilac hue, if you press it, I'll hug you!


	3. Issues

Spoiler Warning: the Siege. If you haven't watched it, don't read it.

Erm, yeah, should have said this before, but, I don't own Stargate. And, just for your information, Larissa is 24 when this stpry takes place. The first chapter takes place long after this whole big mess.

Universal Constant Number Two: Panicking never helps. Ever. But, if it's only a minor emergency, it can be quiet therapeutic and amusing.

"Bloody hell." Carson whispered.

"Yeah, bloody hell." I agreed emphatically. It was more socially acceptable than what I was planning to say. And shorter.

"Um...not that I don't agree with the whole 'bloody hell' motif, but, just to clarify, could you explain a few things? Like why you're here?" Dad asked.

"Well, you and my mom started seeing each other in secret, and some of that evidently included sex, so..." I started. Dad glowered.

"That's not what I meant." He pointed out.

"I know that. I just like pressing your buttons." I answered. Yeah, lame little joke, and from Dad's unimpressed glare, he probably agrees with me. Good to know he still had an underappreciation for my sense of humor when he had hair. "Right, the whole going back in time screw-up. No idea." Dad defied his genetic coding an raised an eyebrow. "Really! As far as I know, the only technology we posses that can travel through time is the _Flux Capacitor _and the _DeLorean_ and they're in the Jumper Bay, and I was on the sub-levels, so unless James somehow managed to extend their temporal fields around Atlantis...but that doesn't make sense because then everyone would be here and why would he do that anyway?...so forget I said that. Then again, it could have been something on this end...but that brings us back to the question of "what?". So, I'm not even sure what I'm talking about at this point, now I'm going to stop talking for the sake of talking and go back to...no idea."

There was silence as both Carson and Dad stared at me. I shifted uncomfortably. "What, do I have something on my face?"

"Ye know Rodney, the lass does look a wee bit like ye." He squinted slightly. "Ye both have the same color hair and the same eyes..."

"That and the fact that we both are addicted to chocolate, tend to babble, and have ridiculously high IQs and hypoglycemia." I added helpfully.

Dad and Carson exchanged looks again. "I'll go call Elizabeth." Dad volunteered, moving to the intercom.

"I'll get the DNA test set up." Carson said, walking towards the medical lab.

"I'll just sit here and try not to think about this too much." I proclaimed, doing just that.

It lasted about three seconds. If life ever gives me a break, I'll have probably died. Again.

"Dr. Beckett, Colonel Sheppard is injured." Teyla called, half-dragging a loudly protesting Sheppard into the infirmary.

"I'm fine Teyla, really I am, it's just a few bumps..." he proclaimed.

"Elizabeth, I think you should come down here. The girl Radek found in the basement woke up and she claims to be my daughter." Dad informed Elizabeth over the radio. Under John's loud cries, of "I'm okay, I'm really okay!", I could the muted cry of "Your... what!" that accompanied that sentiment.

"Yeah, like I said..." Dad replied, but he was cut off by Carson's exclamation of "Bloody hell, Colonel, what did you do to yourself this time?"

"I injured him while we..." Teyla tried to reply, but the end of the sentence was drowned out by Dad vehement cry of "Yes, I said time travel!"

"You've dislocated your thumb and forefinger, lad." Carson informed a rather bemused John and a worried Teyla as Dad answered. "Believe me Elizabeth, I know how unlikely that is."

"He also sprained his wrist and has slight cold." I added from my position on bed. Carson, Teyla and John turned to face me. "What?"

"How do you know that?" Teyla asked, just as John said "And you are..?"

"It's one of those geniemabobers." I answered, ignoring John's question.

"Hold on one second Elizabeth." Dad said, turning towards the rest of us. "Geniemabobers?"

"It's the Fordism for things you do with the Ancient gene. " I shrugged. I had the rather odd experience of being stared at by four younger versions of people I've known my entire life. "And, because you've all obviously missed it the first time around...what?"

Dad turned back to the intercom. "Elizabeth? Could you just come down here, now? Please?"

_**AH! THE SPACES ARE TAKING OVER THE WORLD!**_

"So...you're McKay's...daughter?" John asked.

"Yes John, and if you want to ask me for I fifth time the answer will still be yes." I snorted in exasperation. Forget our family, it's the Sheppards who are really annoying.

"Okay, no need to be snarky." he answered. I stared at him in disbelief. I was stranded in the past, decades back from the look of it, when most of the people I know haven't been born yet and the people I do know that are alive are only about ten years older than me or on other planets or spaceships or something, and I had no need to be snarky?

I didn't say that, of course. Panicking in big situations such as these is never useful. Instead, I said "John, did you hear a word I just said?"

"Yeah, and it didn't sound very plausible to me." he shot back. Note to self: learn how to raise an eyebrow.

"May I remind you that you are in the Pegasus Galaxy, several billion light-years away from Earth, fighting a war against life-suckingvampire aliens, and walking through an artificially created wormhole on an almost daily basis, a wormhole, more over, that was created by a group of long-dead people known as the Ancients who, apparently, are the product of human's first try at evolving. Compared to that, how is time travel not plausible?" I pointed out.

"Oh, time travel I have no issues with. It's McKay procreating that I find hard to believe." he shot back.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Dad retorted angrily.

Elizabethexhaled and put her head in her hands. "Gentlemen? Remember that talk we had about focusing..."

Dad and John glared at each other, and then turned away. I sighed slightly.

"You two are having your annual tizzy-snit, aren't you?" I asked, mimicking Elizabeth's strained posture.

"Interesting choice of words." Dad commented sarcastically.

"Trust me, it's a lot nicer than what other people call it." I assured him. "What's it about this time?"

Dad and John exchanged uneasy glances.

"Why do want to know?" John asked defensively.

"No particular reason. I just want to know which jokes I can make and which jokes will cause you two to explode." I answered. They looked at each other again. "Forget I said anything. Moving right along, I suppose it's too much to ask that..."

"DNA tests are ready!" Carson said, brandishing a needle and smiling in an obtrusively cheerful manner. "You're upfirst lass."

"Um, Carson, don't mean to be a pain here, but can't you just cut some hair off or something? I don't think anyone would notice." I gestured towards my hair, which was currently doing it's best to imitate Harry Potter. Being that it was ginger, it was failing miserably.

"Don't worry lass, it's not goin' ta hurt." Carson assured me with patience born of someone who has spent time with my dad while he was sick.

"I know that." I protested, edging away from the Scott. "I-I-I-I just don't like needles. At all. Really, really don't like needles.I have problems with needles. I'm actually slightly belonephobic. So..."

John sniggered slightly. I turned around and glared at him. "Oh sod off, General. It's not like you don't have bug issues."

John stiffend slightly. _Shit!_ How far back did I go?

"Yes, well, there are reasons for me having bug issues." he snapped. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit.

"Do you honestly think I don't have reasons too?" I retorted. _You should be shutting up now_, my mind screamed/sang, but I really wasn't caring all that much. "In case you haven't noticed, the Genii get sadistic pleasure out of their nasty littlehabit of poking people with things they really should **not** be poked with."

"Yeah, because pin pricks can really get to you." he shot back. I gave him alook. Hmm, how much can needles hurt? Let's see, there was that Pegasus version of the smallpox which was just different enough to slip through the antibodies, then that blueberry poison the Mantuans liked to inject there prisoners with. Oh and let's not forget that time when the Genii met up with the nanite people whose name I can neither pronounce, spell, nor remember, and I had several million robots running ramped in my body, plus that lovely little truth serum that I turned out to be violently allergic to, and seven or eight other experiences I could name.

"Trust me, it can hurt a _lot._" I stated. I glared at him, and he glared right back. Somewhere out of the corner of my eye I saw Dad and Elizabeth exchange glances.

And then my cell phone ran.

NOTES:

Thanks to all the wonderful people who reviewed, I'm glad you liked it!

_Please, don't forget to review! You know I love to hear from you!_


	4. Conversations

Universal Constant Number Three: McKay and Sheppard; two factions that will always appear to be at each others throats but are really watching their backs.

"That's mine." I said automatically, blinking. I turned towards the place where the sound was coming from, and listened. Yep, no doubt about it, that was my cell phone- there is no one else with that ring. Which leaves us with two questions a) who's calling? and b) how are they calling?

"What is that?" John asked, sounding slightly bewildered. "It sounds like..."

"Elvis singing 'Pink Elephants on Parade'." I finished for him, glad for an excuse to stop argueing with him. "Or, at least, an Elvis imitator singing 'Pink Elephants on Parade'. My ex-boyfriend from Honolulu did that as a side job- the ring tone was his going away present." I got off the bed and walked towards the drawer where Carson stashes people's clothes so they can't run away when they're supposed to be knocked out with morphine.

"Hold on chust a sec, lass, where do you think you're goin'" Carson protested, pushing me back onto the bed, which creaked in protest.

"To answer my phone." I answered, getting up again. Carson pushed me back down again.

"I'm sure whoever it is can wait." Carson declared. I rolled my eyes.

"Carson, no one from this time period has my number. I for one would like to know who's calling." I said, standing. "Now if you'll excuse me."

"I'll get it." Carson said, forcing me down again.

"But you don't know what it looks like!" I protested.

"Oh please, it's a phone, what could it look like." Dad said before Carson could answer. I glared at him.

"You are **so** not helping, Dad. And for your information, it looks like a bat." I added.

"A...bat?" Dad asked. Why is it that he can raise an eyebrow and I can't?

"Yes, a bat." Dad looked at me expectantly. Why can't he ever except a simple explanation? "It's Ancient." Nope, that's apparently not long and involved enough for him, if his "and..?" look is anything to go by. " And...if I tell you any more than that Shashi will cut my head off with a blunt ax."

"Shashi?" he inquired.

"Shashi." I confirmed. "Long story. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to tell you it, but I'm rather attached to my head, and would like to keep it that way."

The rather grating sound of Rob's voice increased in volume, and I could just barely make out the sound of some very nasty Gaelic curses being uttered. Considering the fact that Carson was tearing my densely packed bag of stuff apart less than twenty feet away from me at the time, you can imagine how loud it was. It must have been quiet annoying to have it ringing so loudly and not be able to see it.

"Give up yet Carson?' I questioned innocently, fighting the evil smirk that was threatening to take over my face.

"No." he answered tersely. The volume increased again, as did the swearing.

"I don't think your mother would approve of your use of language." I observed. Carson didn't reply, but that might have been because John had collapsed in a fight of coughs that were **not** a result of his lung infection.

"What?" Dad, Elizabeth, and Teyla asked. Carson probably asked too, but my phone had just doubled in volume and I couldn't hear him.

"She's hiding the phone from you doc." he shouted over the noise the reprise was making.

"Congratulations, you've just won ten brownie points." I commented, smirking as the music softened to a dull roar. The phone materialized on the bed slightly to the left of a squashed MRE from a cloak that, if I understood James' and Damek's excited technobabble ramblings correctly, is similar to the ones the Puddle Jumpers are equipped with.

"How'd ye bloody do that?" Carson asked, picking up the phone gingerly, as though it might explode any moment.

"Geniemabober." I replied, hastily snatching the phone away. It's eyes were blinking purple in time to the music, which was probably a good a sign as I could hope- it meant that Damek was on the other end. I flipped open the wings and began speaking.

"Damek? Naslouchat mne, my mít beznadejný bek vcas, a nemusím tebe príští a k clen urcitý nemocnice dobrý ted, ano?" I demanded.

"Lari, speak English, you know I can't understand Russian or Polish or whatever that was." came the annoyed voice of my closest friend Laquisha. I blinked in surprise.

"Okaaaay, several things. A) That was Czech, B) What are you doing with Damek's phone? And C) My name is not Larry. Larry is a cucumber with a lisp that hangs out on a counter top." I asked.

"How did you know...of that's right, Damek MacGyvered caller ID on these things. And like I said, whatever." Laquisha retorted. "What's going on? You were supposed to meet us at juncture seventeen about two hours ago. And what took you so long to answer?"

"Sorry, I was otherwise occupied." I shot a nervous look at the adults, who were watching me with considerable interest, all save Carson, who was taking this opportunity to tend to John.

"Crap. You did something stupid got yourself caught by the Genii again, didn't you?" Laquisha pressed.

"No, we've just gone back in time about thirty years or so." I answered. "Tell me again why you're using Damek's phone?"

"Oh, well, time travel, that's okay then. Thirty years? Wow, I don't think my parents are even dating..." Laquisha sounded a little winded. I grinned. What I wouldn't give to see the look on her face right now...

I jumped as a view screen appeared in the middle of what would have been the bat's stomach, presenting me with a very lovely view of Laquisha's ear. "Hey, Keesha. Hold the bat like a radio."

"How'd you...oh." Laquisha's face swam into view, looking tired and mildly surprised. "I didn't know these things could do that."

"Me neither. Cool, eh?" Laquisha nodded in agreement. "So, let me ask for the third time- what did you do to Damek?"

"Who said I did anything?" she asked with that all-too innocent look on here face that works on everyone else. "Well, I didn't mean to do anything... it just... sorta... happened?"

"This better be good, Sheppard." I growled, before another bought of coughing fits from behind me made me realize what I just said. "Shit!"

"What?" Laquisha asked, squinting at the screen.

"Your Dad's here." I answered guiltily. Oh, I was _so_ dead.

"Dad? There? Really?" she squealed, understandably happy. She, like me hasn't seen her dad for any length of time in over five years. "Lemme see!"

"Not now, Keesha. First, you have to tell me where you are and what happened to Damek." I said glaring at the phone.

"Oh come, please?" she pleaded.

"No." I stated flatly.

"But I bet you got to see your Dad. You probably hugged him, too." She whined. "Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No matter how many times you it, the answer's still gonna be no."

"But that's not fair! I wanna see!"

I sighed. Time to fight fire with fire. "Tell me what happened, you must first do."

"But-"

"Dodge the question, you must not."

"Not Yoda, you aren't."

"Better than you, I am. Double negatives, I use not."

"Picky." Behind me, Dad muttered something in which the words "Twilight Zone" were distinguishable.

"Answer my question, you have yet to do." I pointed out, ignoring the adults.

Laquisha glared at me, and then let out an exasperated snort. "Managed to electrocute himself, Damek did. The pain killers and tranquilizers, I confused. Out cold, he is."

"You WHAT! Which tranq did you give him?" I demanded.

"Um...three blue leaves?" _Shit_! Stating a sentence as a question when it really shouldn't be is never a good sign.

"Why didn't you just use the chems! You're not a herbologist even when you aren't being held together by amphetamines and willpower."

"Because we're really, really short on chems! And it was just a few burns. Barely first degree, from what I could tell."

"Then why'd you give him anything?"

"Have you ever heard a really, really, whinny scientist?" I gave her a look that said quiet clearly (I hope) _Well duh! I grew up in a house **full** of whinny scientists, and I'm **engaged **to that particular one! _

"Okay, okay, not the smartest thing I've ever done. But you have to admit, it's not the stupidest either."

"Point taken. That would have to go to throwing that half-rotten kiwi thingies onto the balcony outside the control room."

"Hey! That was your idea!"

"You let me talk you into it." I pointed out, smirking slightly. "Three blue leaves?"

"Yes." she said, still pouting over the whole kiwi thing.

"Alright. That means he'll wake up about half an hour after administration, and then he'll be numb in his extremities for the next two hours."

"Okay, it wasn't too bad a mess-up." she said, exhaling slightly.

"Unless you count the fact that the pain killers are the orange bark."

"Oh, shut up."

"Yeah, that'll-"

"No seriously, shut up, I hear something."

I waited patiently for about a minute before deciding that I was going to need my patients later, and asking "Who does it sound like?"

"Well, I can't be certain, but it sounds like they're speaking in...Genii."

I closed my eyes slightly. This was so not good in so many ways I didn't know where to begin.

Well, actually, I did. "Shit."

"My thought exactly."

"Okay, listen, I want you to take cover. Do not contact me, unless they turn out to be ours. With any luck, it'll just be Petrel's family having a private conversation."

"I doubt it but-"

With a burst of static and the unwelcome sight of snow, the bat went dead.

AUTHOR'S NOTES, RESPONSES, AND GENERAL RAMBLINGS

Belisse-I'm updating now, does that count?

Seanait-You're dying? Well, we can't have that, can we?

Margaret- I'm glad you like it! And I'll try to keep up thegood work, so just let me know if I start to slip.

eris86-God, I hope that didn't ruin your computer.

paleoloca- _blushes_ Well, I try.

Grey Bard-I'm glad you didn't flee. I'm also glad you like it. Now-what's a crackfic?

Yrica-Glad you love it. Hope it lives up to your expectations.

It's the purple thing right down there  
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	5. I don't have time for this!

1Universal Constant Number Four: When you're used to being at the top of the totem pole, the hardest thing you could ever do is to try and convince a superior officer that you're right when you _know_ you are.

"Well, this isn't good," I observed. Placing the phone down beside the bed and I hopped off the mattress.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock," said John, reaching for his radio. "Bates, this is Sheppard. There seems to be a possible Genii invasion on the sublevels. I want you to--"

"Don't do that!" I ordered.

"Sir? Is there someone there with you?" Even the static sounded slightly confused.

"Yes there is, Lt. Larissa McKay. It's good to hear your voice again Gene but could you please, for the moment, shut up so I can talk to the Colonel," I replied snatching the radio from an astonished John.

"You're military?" he asked.

"I'm military," I confirmed. Okay, so technically speaking, I wasn't. Adele was Lt. McKay, but by now I've probably handled a gun more then anyone else on Atlantis. Besides, what they don't know can't hurt them.

"You're..._military_," Dad repeated.

I sighed slightly. "We can have that conversation _later_, Dad," I said firmly. "_Instead_, I'm going to grab my gear, go down to the sublevels, and find out what exactly is going on."

"No, you're staying here," said John. "And that's an order, McKay," he finished smirking slightly. I just _know_ that he had gotten a kick out of saying those last five words. He actually expected me to obey them.

"Here's the thing. You can't order me around," I said and snatched up a very worn paperback book with the Atlantian crest on the front. I shoved it under his nose. "'Military amendment 0065: When time travel occurs the military officers from the dates in the 'future' reserve the right to disobey orders from those in 'past' in order to preserve the timeline.' You can have fun reading all about it, _while _I'm down in the sublevels. If you can decipher my handwriting that is."

"You're not going anywhere," he insisted.

I closed my eyes, gave a silent plea to the Ascended to please, please, _please_ give me a little of their eternal patience, and said, in as even a tone as I could manage, "And why not?"

"Because there's no proof to back up your story. We can't have people, who are possibly spies, running around unrestricted."

"I won't be running around unrestricted. I'll be down in the sublevels, assessing the situation, and, if need be, stunning people, and dragging my own back here," I explained, fighting the urge to growl. "And _what_ do I have to do to convince you that I am who I say I am? Recite the periodic table in alphabetical order?"

"So why shouldn't I send a team down there? There would be more people to stun the bad guys and less of a risk to the city," he reasoned while ignoring my last statement.

"Okay, first of all, I doubt any of your people will be able to tell the bad guys from the good guys. It's not like we're color-coded. In the future, we aren't even wearing uniforms anymore. And secondly, messing around with time can turn real ugly real fast."

"Oh...really?" he asked, having that annoying smile on his face again.

I gave up not trying to growl and made the impatient noise in the back of my throat. Our people were practically defenseless and probably facing a Genii strike force without back up because back up was busy negotiating with younger-- and apparently, more stubborn-- versions of their parents. I don't have time for this!

"I don't have time for this!" I repeated out loud. I turned back to the bed, to grab some of my stuff before storming out of the room, to_ hell_ with the consequences. The only reason that I didn't was because John grabbed my arm.

"Let. Me. Go... Now," I sibilated, half-wishing he would burst into flames.

"There's no way I'm letting some random kid who showed up out of nowhere walk around Atlantis, alone, while there are Genii about. You have refused to take a DNA test to prove your story and have offered no other proof to back it up."

I made to jerk my arm out of his grasp, but he just held on tighter. I gave another growl of frustration. "I don't think you fully understand our situation, Colonel," I snapped. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand. Time travel is dangerous. Very, very, _very_, ridiculously dangerous. If you had one hundred fully charged ZedPMs and blew them up, you would not even have one-tenth the destructive power that screwing with the time-space continuum can produce. People _die _when stuff like this happens! Entire _planets_ can be destroyed, entire _races_ could never exist, and life as we know it could cease to be! Trust me. This isn't my first time being thrown around the fourth dimension."

John glared at me. "Listen, McKay..."

"This is getting us no where," I hissed."Look, as much as I love snarking with you, I'd rather have the people on my team live. You can watch me on the friggin' life signs detector, but I needed to of been down there ten minutes ago!" I shouted. God it was very, very tempting to just switch off the lights, grab my zat and _go_. But chances were I'd have to deal with these people later, and running now would_ not_ endear me to them.

John looked over at Elizabeth, who looked at me. "You aren't going alone," she said finally. I groaned.

"Perhaps John and I could accompany her," Teyla offered. I shook my head violently.

"No, John can't go. He's too curious, he'd ask questions, and that could irreparably alter the time line. No," I said flatly.

"And you don't think I am curious?" Teyla said with a raised eyebrow.

"No… but more often than not, you know when to keep your mouth shut. That ability's rarer than the ancient gene," I stated. "And Carson doesn't have a shot for it. So, Teyla can go with me down to the sublevels. Everyone happy? Can I leave now?"

"No!" John protested.

That was the last straw. I… blew up. "WHAT PART OF 'I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS' DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND! THAT'S MY TEAM DOWN THERE, AND THEY'RE PROBABLY OUTNUMBERED SIX TO ONE, AND WITH THE STATE THEY'RE IN THAT'S NOT VERY GOOD ODDS! THEY NEED HELP, AND I CAN'T HELP THEM IF I'M STUCK IN HERE ARGUING WITH YOU ABOUT MY IDENTITY! YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD UNDERSTAND THAT!"

Dad shouted something, and I suddenly realized that I was inches away from John's face, and seconds from strangling him. I took a deep breath and a large step back. "Look, Carson can indulge in his vampiric customs and then analyze the results while Teyla and I are rescuing my people. Then if I'm not who I say I am, feel free to lock me up in Hotel de Steve. But I need to go, and I need to go now."

John looked remarkably calm for a person who had, a second ago, almost been strangled. "DNA test first," he said simply.

"Isn't that what I said?" I asked rhetorically. He ignored me. "Let's just get this over with so I can leave, okay?"

Carson looked over at Elizabeth, who nodded; he then turned back to me. "Alright lass, hop up there."

I sat back down on the bed, grimacing. "Just make it quick, alright?"

Carson nodded, and stuck a needle in my arm. I closed my eyes, slowly counted backwards from ten in Mandarin Chinese, (Shi, jiu, ba, qi, liu, wu, si, san, er, yi), and then opened them again, to find Carson finished. Hurriedly, I hopped off the bed.

"We will need to visit the armory," said Teyla.

"No need, I have plenty of weapons here," I replied, pulling out two zats and gave one to her. She looked at it curiously. "Squeeze the base to shoot, one blast stuns, two kills, three disintegrates." I pulled out a hand-held Wraith stunner, two M-16s, and a P-90. "The fuel cells in the zats have been in use for almost a decade, they'll be running out any day now. We should probably bring the extra cells."

"Is it normal for you to be carrying so many weapons?" she asked.

"Is now," I answered, grabbing my first-aid kit. "Okay, let's go already!"

"Uhh..." Dad said tentatively.

I glared at him. "What _now_?"

"Shouldn't you get dressed first?"

I looked down at myself, and realized I was wearing nothing but a hospital gown. Frustrated, I quickly grabbed my jeans and put them on underneath.

"I'll take care of the rest later, let's move!"

AUTHOR'S RESPONSES AND RAMBLINGS

Belisse-Oh, they'll be plenty of unexpected stuff coming (cackles evilly).

Madj-I feel a little sorry for them too, but the tension will be explained later, although it is partially their fault.

Eris86-Here ya go! Put away those comestibles...

Margaret- Hopefully, this portrays the adults as more authoritative. That's what I was going for, anyway.

MagpieDreamer- You read fanfic during exams- shame on you! (Not really though, I spent more time here then study during mine) I'm glad you find my OC's not mary-sueish. And I'm on someone's 'story alert' list. Yippee! Thank you ;).

Xc00lcomic- Wow, has it really been two months? Here's your update!


	6. Inri

To clear up any confusion, there are people from Larissa's time period in Atlantis' basement, whichprobably includes some Genii.

Yeah, I don't own Stargate, and Rodney McKay isn't real **_sobs _**

* * *

Universal Constant Number Five: It doesn't matter who you are or where you are in the chain of command; your people always come first.

As we left the infirmary, I became consciously aware of people staring at us-- or more specifically me. It could have been because I was a new face on Atlantis. More likely, because I was currently dressed in a hospital gown and jeans; but the real reason was probably the fact that I had a zat on one side, a stunner encasing my arm on the other, and an impatient bounce in my step

"Could you go a little faster, please?" I asked for the quintillionth time.

"We are moving as fast as we possibly can," John replied. "The transporter is about ten feet away. Now, would you please stop asking me that?"

"I would if you would move faster."

"Please tell me that Sheppard and I don't really sound like that," Dad muttered to Teyla.

"Well, it is normally John urging you to move," She replied diplomatically. As Dad groaned in response, we entered the transporter. John pressed a button toward the top of the screen.

"Hey! That doesn't lead to the sub-levels!" I protested.

"No, it leads to the control room," He informed me.

"Why the hell are we going to the control room?" I asked.

"Because I'd like to use the big life signs detector so I can get a fix on where you are going to be and how many Genii you and Teyla are going to go up against."

"And you couldn't have told me this earlier because . . . "

"I would have, but _somebody_ kept on _yakking_."

I glared. " All you needed to say was, 'We need to go to the control room first'. Just nine little words, Colonel." John then muttered something, which I will refrain from repeating because it was totally not true.

When the doors opened with their characteristic Trek-like whoosh, I stepped outside not waiting for an invitation. The control room was surprisingly empty-- Radek was working on the deep-space sensors, and there were a few marines milling about, probably on guard duty. The place looked almost serene. It was the Atlantis I remembered during my days as an innocent four-year-old rather than the confused, half-destroyed madhouse of the past year.

I would have smiled if it hadn't been for that, back in my own time, Radek had been in a coma for six years because of a horrible head injury, Gene Bates had gotten shot by his own son, and Anthony Stackhouse had been blown up by one of the brainwashed suicide bombers about ten feet from where he was standing now.

Yeah, the whole 'I see dead people' thing sort of put a damper on the mood.

Gene was the first to spot me. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Lt. McKay. We spoke on the radio." I replied. Wow, how weird can it get that I was introducing myself to a dead guy who I've known practically all my life.

He looked me over, probably taking in the fact that I was heavily armed, dressed in a hospital gown, wearing no shoes, and had the worst hair cut imaginable. "Really?"

"No, not really, because I can't remember my name and rank," Well, I added mentally, I can remember my name and my sister's rank.

"Hey kids, play nice," John drawled.

"I will if he does," I answered. Gene raised an eyebrow. I raised both of mine in return.

"Oh, crap." Dad swore behind us.

"What now?" I whined.

Dad pointed, soundlessly for once, at the life signs detector. It was currently displaying the lower levels and twenty-seven life signs.

"Oh yes, very crappy." I agreed pushing passed Gene to get a closer look. "I don't suppose any of them could be your people."

"No, we evacuated, then sealed the lower levels after we found you. Those levels were empty six hours ago!"

"Um, Rodney? Is something happening I should know about?" asked Radek, looking concerned.

"Nothing really. Just a bunch of people from the future puttering around the sub-levels."

"So they're all from my time period," I interrupted, frowning. "The ten in front of the lone pair of dots are most likely a Genii strike team. The pair are probably Damek and Laquisha, they must be sending a distress call and since we've found a way to send very short-range messages through the jammer, the others are, hopefully, answering it--" I blinked and as suddenly, forty more dots appeared on the screen. "Holy-- okay, that's just not possible, not to mention completely and totally unfair."

"I'd of thought you would welcome the opportunity," Said a drawling voice on my right. I blinked again. I knew who it was, but I was really hoping I was wrong.

"Dad, did a woman with a passing resemblance to Sam just appear next to me?" I asked hoping he'd say no.

Dad blinked, which I took to mean yes. Sighing, I turned around.

"You know, for someone who's technically omniscient, you certainly have a hard time comprehending to meaning of 'don't call us, we'll call you'," I seethed.

"Hey, I'm doing you a favor. Don't complain."

"This is what you call a favor?" I ranted, gesturing at the life signs detector. "Thanks, but no thanks, really. If I wanted to get involved in temporal mechanics, I would have become a scientist."

"You didn't even get a doctorate!" Dad yelped, at the same time John asked pointing at the intruder, "Who's she?"

"This is Inri. Uber-ascended Ancient. Basically Q, only more annoying and meddlesome," I explained. "And I got doctorates, just in Sociology, Political Science, and Diplomacy."

"Not in grammar though, eh?" Dad snarked sarcastically.

"A Q?" John repeated, looking bemused

"I am not Q!" Inri protested.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I am _not_ having three conversations at once. You," I instructed, pointing to John. "Listen to the conversation I'm going to be having with her, and if you still have questions after that, I'll deal with it then. Dad, we are not having this conversation now. We can have it later, like after I'm _born_. And just for the record, you try keeping twenty different grammatical rules straight in your head, and see how you fare, hmm?" I turned back to Inri. "As for you, oh, _yes,_ you are. And what do you mean, 'I would welcome the opportunity?'"

Inri raised an eyebrow. "Exactly that. You can't pretend you haven't wanted an opportunity to start over. Think about it-- no irreparable mistakes have been made yet. And do I really need to bring John DeLancie here again so you can see I'm not him?"

"If I _wanted_ to change the past I would have jumped on a DeLorean. So logically, I must not want to go back in time," I shot back, purposefully ignoring the DeLancie comment.

"You wanted to; you were just to afraid of the repercussions."

"And with good reason! Genii! In the city! Not a good thing!" I shouted, flailing my arm in her face for emphasis.

"Oh, cut that out. I didn't bring any Genii back to the city," She said irritably.

"Alright then, who are those people?" I demanded.

"Atlanteans."

"Atlanteans?" I repeated incredulously. "Have you somehow over looked the fact that there are sixty-seven people down there? How could they _all_ be Atlanteans?"

"You were missing for more than two hours. And your friends have sent out a distress call. Your people came running." Inri said with a roll of her eyes. "Feel better now?"

"Yes, thank you. This confirms my beliefs that all my people are suicidal_ idiots_. That just fills me with _such_ a warm, bubbly feeling." I shot back. "Radek, Dad, could one of you unlock a path to the transporters? Damek and Keesha'll know what to do."

"Dad?" echoed Radek.

"Yep. Turns out Rodney's been busy." John drawled. "Or, at least, some time in the next thirty years he will be."

"Oh, would you just shut up!" Dad spluttered.

"You know, you'd think all those millions of years your species has spent evolving would have bred this sort of thing out of them." Inri observed, jerking her head towards the guys.

"Yeah, well." I shrugged. "They wouldn't be guys then." Three heads snapped around to glare at me. "Anytime you feel like focusing and opening up the sub-levels . . . "

"You can't insult us and then ask for our help!" Radek protested.

"Well, you have to admit, you argue a lot more." I pointed out with restraint. "Can we please, please get my people now?"

"I can do that!" Inri said brightly.

"No, that's--" I protested, but suddenly sixty-seven people appeared in the middle of the control room. "Really not necessary. You do understand that we aren't complete ignoramuses and are capable of, you know, opening doors and pressing buttons, right?"

"Really?"

"Oh, shut up," I grumbled, taking a good look at the new arrivals, which were gaping at the gateroom with varying degrees of shock on their faces.

"Wow...it looks as if nothing had ever been blown up!" Petrel exclaimed, sweeping her curly blond hair out of her face, and managing to sound both sarcastic and awed at the same time.

"Okay, whoever has their jammer on, turn it off now." I called, and there was a small "Whoops" from inside the mass of people. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, nice one Ken." Seriously, the guy's like my brother, but he can't handle technology for fribbles. "Laquisha, what's the situation?"

I waited, and then Kat pushed her way to the forefront of the crowd. "Keesha says we have two people with minor grazes and a broken wrist, along with Damek's paralysis, and she'll be there as soon as she can get your fiancée to walk upright and speak English. Now if you'll excuse me, my idiot brother will probably be blowing himself up with his jammer right, so . . . "

"Don't be too hard on Ken. It's not his fault he's a total technophobe." I said rolling my eyes as Kat walked away. Then I turned the Colonel. "Oy, Sheppard? Can we borrow the infirmary? We have wounded."

"Um . . . sure. If you'll answer some of my questions."

"Uh... Are you sure we should just let them run around unchecked." Dad asked.

"Rodney, she's your daughter." John stressed.

"We don't have any confirmation on that!" he protested.

"Yeah, but she acts like you."

"No, I don't," Isaid. "If positions were reversed, you would have been locked up by now."

Both men blinked at me. Behind them, Radek smirked slightly.

"Vell, at least we now know that Ronan lives long enough to have an influence on her." He said.

"Yep'. See you in the infirmary, Colonel." I replied, and then headed off to find my boyfriend.

* * *

Many thanks to my wonderful beta Livvy, who, once again, had to deal with my tense confusion. And as always, reviews are wonderful, wonderful things.


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